The Billionaire's Regret
I stared at it, then at Sebastian, who was standing near the window in a black shirt again, sleeves rolled, face calm, one hand in his pocket while the other flipped through a sheet of notes.
“Are you trying to adopt the hospital too?” I asked.
Without looking at me, he answered, “I like data.”
“I like poison. See? Everyone has hobbies.”
On the rug, Poppy sat cross-legged in a peach house dress, a thin cardigan hanging from her shoulders, her long hair braided into two plaits by Salma, though the left side was already starting to come loose because she couldn’t sit still for more than eight minutes. Bunny was beside her. In front of her were a box of stickers, crayons, and a medical activity